Osh is hot and arid, and it’s the last real sizeable town until maybe Khorog. Here I ate like a fiend and enjoyed the company of other humans before taking off into the unknown. After that it’s up, up and away! Four-ish increasingly high mountain passes to traverse before reaching the Pamir Plateau and its brutal headwinds and alpine desert.
Above: Panorama of the city from Sulayman Peak. Osh was supposedly founded by biblical King Solomon (Sulayman).
I hit up the huge and awesome Osh Bazaar, where I stocked up on massive quantities of cookies, and tried on some traditional Kyrgyz attire.
Admiring the urban art on the way out.
Whatchoo laughin’ at??? HAH, read in Cyrillic, reads naan in English. Yay, the word for bread is the same in Kyrgyz/Tajik/Hindi, and probably a bunch of other languages too.
Met some motor-cyclists and asked them to exchange vehicles with me. They all politely refused.
Herding cows on the freeway. The Kyrgyz are great horsemen, and even young boys like this one are often seen expertly herding their cattle with no adult supervision.
Some kids, some of whom are wearing the traditional Kyrgyz kalpak, made of white felt. Guess who has one tooooooo.
Chirchik Pass, 2389m! One down!
After Chirchik pass, I dip back down into the habitable zone for a bit just to meet some nice people, including Itil (right) and his wife Raisa. Itil is quite possibly the real most interesting man in the world. Born in Chechnya, his family emigrated to the USA when he was very young. He spent his youth traveling around the world and then decided to get a master’s degree. For a few decades now he’s been working as a consultant for international NGOs. He’s worked in Afghanistan, where he was shot in the leg (hence the cane), and now he’s in Kyrgyzstan working on a sustainable agriculture project. He has two wives; one Uzbek woman pictured here, and another lady in England. Apparently they are both aware of each other and happy with the situation. Itil was just filled with interesting stories and the three of us spent a lovely evening together, which mostly involved him talking and me eating all their food. I can only hope that when I am his age I have a few interesting stories of my own (although perhaps I’ll forego the two wives).
Last donkey for a while.
Most nights it was just me in my tent, somewhere awesome like this.
Taldyk Pass, 3615m! Two down, more to go.
On the far side of Taldyk pass lies Sary Tash, the last town before Tajikistan. I arrived late in the afternoon, just as the cows were coming home. Har har har. Those mountains in the distance? I have to go over them.
But first, it’s time to hang out in Mr. Mirbek’s homestay for three days while a blizzard hits Sary Tash.
Above: My sleeping quarters. I just can’t get enough of these Kyrgyz carpets. Below, left: A lot of the houses out here have these radiant heat stoves built into the wall. Basically, you start a small fire, which heats up the ceramic of the stove ( that thing is solid ceramic) very slowly. This kind of heating system can keep a small house warm all day and night on just a tiny yak dung fire. I was really comfy even though the wind was howling and snow was flittering down outside.
Above, right: But I just spent most of my time huddled up reading a book while the view outside looked something like this.
Above: Finally the skies cleared up and on the way out of Sary Tash I met Justin and Beth, two Americans also doing the Pamir Highway!! Yay, friends! Until now I’d been companionless in Central Asia. Justin is an international sales manager for Princeton Tech, a company that makes headlamps and such for camping. Recently he ‘sponsored’ me with a free headlamp! Thanks man! Beth is a writer and photographer for about.com as well as several bike magazines. They are both lucky enough to be able to work from the road. So jealous.
Up up up we go towards the very ominous terrain ahead.
I photoshopped this dog, whom we named Kyzyl, into this photo. Can you tell? I mean, he was a real dog, who really existed at this location, but I like this panorama and he wasn’t in it, so I pulled him out of a similar photo, and stuck him in this one. Disingenuous reporting?
Last house before Tajikistan. Just go live in Osh where it’s warm and they have vegetables, guys! But this kiddo was super cute and they all seemed really happy. Not ‘shopped.
Kyzyl-Art pass, 4200something meters, and we’re in!
It was soooo cold up there, that night Justin, Beth, and I “camped” in this shack with the Tajik border post guy. Can you imagine rolling up to the border in the US and asking the immigration official “Please sir, may I sleep in your office?” That would be sure to get you on the terror watch list, methinks. Here though, we were offered tea and food, and given a relatively comfortable floor to sleep on. At least it was above zero inside.
Then we plummet back down into Karakul. For much of the way, there was this fence. Apparently, the Chinese bought some of Tajikistan, and then erected this fence for hundreds of kilometers along the new border, just so the 5 shepherds that live out there cannot illegally enter China. But that didn’t stop us! We totally went through this gate and hung out in China for 5 minutes. Hey, one more country visited on this bike trip.
Almost to Karakul. My bike, with more of that fence in the background.
There is almost nothing in Karakul. It’s just a collection of mudbrick homes and car carcasses. Don’t miss out on Homestay Sadat though.
Above: And of course there are more cute children. That’s their mosque in the background. Below: Lake Karakul. Not to be confused with the several other lakes and towns named Karakul in Central Asia. This lake is briny and frozen at the moment, although at the height of summer, when it liquifies for a couple short months, they host the Karakul “Roof of the World Regatta", a major wind-surfing event.
This is the biggun. After leaving Karakul, we head up Ak Baital Pass, 4655m. The oxygen was noticably thin up here. Oh and I put a LiNK sticker on the sign! Represent!
Even in such a seemingly inhospitable place, nature prevails. This puppy (and several others) live outside near the top of the pass. Look how thick his fur is.
But it was still too cold for us mere humans. We had to stay with the road crew manager guy just 100m below the top of the pass. Headaches were ubiquitous, we all had altitude sickness to some degree. Time to descend.
On the way down to Murgab I ran into two Russian hitchhikers. They seemed well prepared, but I wonder how long they had to wait for a ride, considering I had seen maybe one car that day.
The road is so empty and the landscape so vast that you can just hang out in the middle of the road, and even if a car comes, you will know 20 minutes before it gets to you.
Finally, Murgab, an oasis in the desert and the first real town since Sary Tash, which was 4 days ago. It doesn’t look like much, but they have veggies! (including a few really expensive half-rotten tomatoes!)
Back at the immigration checkpost, we had met Daler (pronounced “dollar”), who invited us into his home in Murgab for an incredible meal of home-cooked bread, butter, jams, mutton, potatoes, yogurt, and salad. Daler studied abroad in Georgia (the US state, not the country) and so speaks English fluently, and has lots of awesome stories to tell. He’s back in Murgab now but normally is in university in Bishkek, where he studies sustainable development. He wants to open up eco-tourism in the Murgab area, taking people fishing and out spotting Marco Polo sheep.
At the Murgab market, I saw this really nice Giant touring bike, and went looking for its owner, thinking there was another bike traveler in town. It turns out that a long time ago some German bike tourist had called it quits in Murgab, and up and gave his bike to this local Tajik guy. He said he loves the thing, but can’t find anywhere to get new tires for it.
Then there were these cool dudes. I know, I know, they look like evil hoodlums from a Mad Max movie, but they were actually just about the nicest possible people. Tajik people tend to live pretty rough lives up here in the mountains. Their skin is leathery, clothes often dirty, hands calloused, etc, but I never once encountered so much as a bad attitude from anyone up here. I think they know they live in one of the coolest places in the world, and they’re happy to share it with travelers.
I spent three days in Murgab relaxing and trying in vain to use the internet. Justin and Beth, working folk, needed to stay a couple extra days to stimulate their cash flow, so I took off on my own towards the Wakhan Valley…
Part III coming momentarily!
Above: Panorama of the city from Sulayman Peak. Osh was supposedly founded by biblical King Solomon (Sulayman).
I hit up the huge and awesome Osh Bazaar, where I stocked up on massive quantities of cookies, and tried on some traditional Kyrgyz attire.
Admiring the urban art on the way out.
Whatchoo laughin’ at??? HAH, read in Cyrillic, reads naan in English. Yay, the word for bread is the same in Kyrgyz/Tajik/Hindi, and probably a bunch of other languages too.
Met some motor-cyclists and asked them to exchange vehicles with me. They all politely refused.
Herding cows on the freeway. The Kyrgyz are great horsemen, and even young boys like this one are often seen expertly herding their cattle with no adult supervision.
Some kids, some of whom are wearing the traditional Kyrgyz kalpak, made of white felt. Guess who has one tooooooo.
Chirchik Pass, 2389m! One down!
After Chirchik pass, I dip back down into the habitable zone for a bit just to meet some nice people, including Itil (right) and his wife Raisa. Itil is quite possibly the real most interesting man in the world. Born in Chechnya, his family emigrated to the USA when he was very young. He spent his youth traveling around the world and then decided to get a master’s degree. For a few decades now he’s been working as a consultant for international NGOs. He’s worked in Afghanistan, where he was shot in the leg (hence the cane), and now he’s in Kyrgyzstan working on a sustainable agriculture project. He has two wives; one Uzbek woman pictured here, and another lady in England. Apparently they are both aware of each other and happy with the situation. Itil was just filled with interesting stories and the three of us spent a lovely evening together, which mostly involved him talking and me eating all their food. I can only hope that when I am his age I have a few interesting stories of my own (although perhaps I’ll forego the two wives).
Last donkey for a while.
Most nights it was just me in my tent, somewhere awesome like this.
Taldyk Pass, 3615m! Two down, more to go.
On the far side of Taldyk pass lies Sary Tash, the last town before Tajikistan. I arrived late in the afternoon, just as the cows were coming home. Har har har. Those mountains in the distance? I have to go over them.
But first, it’s time to hang out in Mr. Mirbek’s homestay for three days while a blizzard hits Sary Tash.
Above: My sleeping quarters. I just can’t get enough of these Kyrgyz carpets. Below, left: A lot of the houses out here have these radiant heat stoves built into the wall. Basically, you start a small fire, which heats up the ceramic of the stove ( that thing is solid ceramic) very slowly. This kind of heating system can keep a small house warm all day and night on just a tiny yak dung fire. I was really comfy even though the wind was howling and snow was flittering down outside.
Above, right: But I just spent most of my time huddled up reading a book while the view outside looked something like this.
Above: Finally the skies cleared up and on the way out of Sary Tash I met Justin and Beth, two Americans also doing the Pamir Highway!! Yay, friends! Until now I’d been companionless in Central Asia. Justin is an international sales manager for Princeton Tech, a company that makes headlamps and such for camping. Recently he ‘sponsored’ me with a free headlamp! Thanks man! Beth is a writer and photographer for about.com as well as several bike magazines. They are both lucky enough to be able to work from the road. So jealous.
Up up up we go towards the very ominous terrain ahead.
I photoshopped this dog, whom we named Kyzyl, into this photo. Can you tell? I mean, he was a real dog, who really existed at this location, but I like this panorama and he wasn’t in it, so I pulled him out of a similar photo, and stuck him in this one. Disingenuous reporting?
Last house before Tajikistan. Just go live in Osh where it’s warm and they have vegetables, guys! But this kiddo was super cute and they all seemed really happy. Not ‘shopped.
Kyzyl-Art pass, 4200something meters, and we’re in!
It was soooo cold up there, that night Justin, Beth, and I “camped” in this shack with the Tajik border post guy. Can you imagine rolling up to the border in the US and asking the immigration official “Please sir, may I sleep in your office?” That would be sure to get you on the terror watch list, methinks. Here though, we were offered tea and food, and given a relatively comfortable floor to sleep on. At least it was above zero inside.
Then we plummet back down into Karakul. For much of the way, there was this fence. Apparently, the Chinese bought some of Tajikistan, and then erected this fence for hundreds of kilometers along the new border, just so the 5 shepherds that live out there cannot illegally enter China. But that didn’t stop us! We totally went through this gate and hung out in China for 5 minutes. Hey, one more country visited on this bike trip.
Almost to Karakul. My bike, with more of that fence in the background.
There is almost nothing in Karakul. It’s just a collection of mudbrick homes and car carcasses. Don’t miss out on Homestay Sadat though.
Above: And of course there are more cute children. That’s their mosque in the background. Below: Lake Karakul. Not to be confused with the several other lakes and towns named Karakul in Central Asia. This lake is briny and frozen at the moment, although at the height of summer, when it liquifies for a couple short months, they host the Karakul “Roof of the World Regatta", a major wind-surfing event.
This is the biggun. After leaving Karakul, we head up Ak Baital Pass, 4655m. The oxygen was noticably thin up here. Oh and I put a LiNK sticker on the sign! Represent!
Even in such a seemingly inhospitable place, nature prevails. This puppy (and several others) live outside near the top of the pass. Look how thick his fur is.
But it was still too cold for us mere humans. We had to stay with the road crew manager guy just 100m below the top of the pass. Headaches were ubiquitous, we all had altitude sickness to some degree. Time to descend.
On the way down to Murgab I ran into two Russian hitchhikers. They seemed well prepared, but I wonder how long they had to wait for a ride, considering I had seen maybe one car that day.
The road is so empty and the landscape so vast that you can just hang out in the middle of the road, and even if a car comes, you will know 20 minutes before it gets to you.
Finally, Murgab, an oasis in the desert and the first real town since Sary Tash, which was 4 days ago. It doesn’t look like much, but they have veggies! (including a few really expensive half-rotten tomatoes!)
Back at the immigration checkpost, we had met Daler (pronounced “dollar”), who invited us into his home in Murgab for an incredible meal of home-cooked bread, butter, jams, mutton, potatoes, yogurt, and salad. Daler studied abroad in Georgia (the US state, not the country) and so speaks English fluently, and has lots of awesome stories to tell. He’s back in Murgab now but normally is in university in Bishkek, where he studies sustainable development. He wants to open up eco-tourism in the Murgab area, taking people fishing and out spotting Marco Polo sheep.
At the Murgab market, I saw this really nice Giant touring bike, and went looking for its owner, thinking there was another bike traveler in town. It turns out that a long time ago some German bike tourist had called it quits in Murgab, and up and gave his bike to this local Tajik guy. He said he loves the thing, but can’t find anywhere to get new tires for it.
Then there were these cool dudes. I know, I know, they look like evil hoodlums from a Mad Max movie, but they were actually just about the nicest possible people. Tajik people tend to live pretty rough lives up here in the mountains. Their skin is leathery, clothes often dirty, hands calloused, etc, but I never once encountered so much as a bad attitude from anyone up here. I think they know they live in one of the coolest places in the world, and they’re happy to share it with travelers.
I spent three days in Murgab relaxing and trying in vain to use the internet. Justin and Beth, working folk, needed to stay a couple extra days to stimulate their cash flow, so I took off on my own towards the Wakhan Valley…
Part III coming momentarily!
